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This is so not bubbly.
Shay picks herself up from the floor of the fashion-missing Ugly dorm(?) she stumbled into in her escape from the pounding icy rain and complicated conversation outside. Water, tinted red and running steadily more clear, trickles in rivulets down her arm and onto the ground. Clearly none of the other Cutters made it inside.
"This is so missing," she groans, rolling her shoulders and straightening up. Surely even in an Ugly dorm like this one there's a hole in the wall she can use to get dry clothes.
This bogus building might not be bubbly, but Shay is--so bubbly it's like ice runs in shattering shards through her veins. She can see the world as it really is now. Her New Pretty-colored glasses have come off, and what's less is a miasma of ugly-minded feelings. Pain, both internal and external. Rage, which is as hot and red as blood. Fury, which tastes differently in the back of her mouth than rage: colder and longer-lasting. The gritty texture between her teeth from trying to claw her way back from being so totally, utterly, bogusly abandoned. The rotten cloying stink of betrayal, of knowing that the person she did everything for took everything from her and left her alone to deal with just the useless cast-off detritus in her wake. Shay remembers everything now, and the memory burns like dry ice adhering to hot skin. Even the shock of the proposition she's just received can't throw her off her game.
Shay, Dr. Cable had said, not even forty minutes ago, before any of the other Cutters reached their little rendezvous spot in Uglyville. Wouldn't you like to be Special?
Yes had warred with You just want me to get to Tally, wherever she is on the tip of Shay's tongue, and what came out was, Um, bubbly! Can I think about it? Let you know tonight?
Shay is a tall, elegant Pretty with copper eyes, generous lips, dark hair, and a folding knife tucked near-invisibly away into her back pocket. Her flash tattoo is a nest of snakes coiling around one eyebrow and down her cheek; they writhe with her heartbeat. She's wearing black trousers, a sleeveless white T, long gloves, and a black scarf wound around her left wrist. Unlike with Tally upon her arrival, the metal cuff on that wrist, bulging under the glove and scarf, is fake and serves no monitoring purposes. Her interface ring, however, is functional.
Potential CW for self-harm (Shay is in her Cutters era); please let me (S!) know if you'd prefer the subject be completely avoided in our threads! Otherwise, tag-specific subject-line CWs will be included as needed.
Shay picks herself up from the floor of the fashion-missing Ugly dorm(?) she stumbled into in her escape from the pounding icy rain and complicated conversation outside. Water, tinted red and running steadily more clear, trickles in rivulets down her arm and onto the ground. Clearly none of the other Cutters made it inside.
"This is so missing," she groans, rolling her shoulders and straightening up. Surely even in an Ugly dorm like this one there's a hole in the wall she can use to get dry clothes.
This bogus building might not be bubbly, but Shay is--so bubbly it's like ice runs in shattering shards through her veins. She can see the world as it really is now. Her New Pretty-colored glasses have come off, and what's less is a miasma of ugly-minded feelings. Pain, both internal and external. Rage, which is as hot and red as blood. Fury, which tastes differently in the back of her mouth than rage: colder and longer-lasting. The gritty texture between her teeth from trying to claw her way back from being so totally, utterly, bogusly abandoned. The rotten cloying stink of betrayal, of knowing that the person she did everything for took everything from her and left her alone to deal with just the useless cast-off detritus in her wake. Shay remembers everything now, and the memory burns like dry ice adhering to hot skin. Even the shock of the proposition she's just received can't throw her off her game.
Shay, Dr. Cable had said, not even forty minutes ago, before any of the other Cutters reached their little rendezvous spot in Uglyville. Wouldn't you like to be Special?
Yes had warred with You just want me to get to Tally, wherever she is on the tip of Shay's tongue, and what came out was, Um, bubbly! Can I think about it? Let you know tonight?
Shay is a tall, elegant Pretty with copper eyes, generous lips, dark hair, and a folding knife tucked near-invisibly away into her back pocket. Her flash tattoo is a nest of snakes coiling around one eyebrow and down her cheek; they writhe with her heartbeat. She's wearing black trousers, a sleeveless white T, long gloves, and a black scarf wound around her left wrist. Unlike with Tally upon her arrival, the metal cuff on that wrist, bulging under the glove and scarf, is fake and serves no monitoring purposes. Her interface ring, however, is functional.
Potential CW for self-harm (Shay is in her Cutters era); please let me (S!) know if you'd prefer the subject be completely avoided in our threads! Otherwise, tag-specific subject-line CWs will be included as needed.
